
How the Ladies Earned 
Their Dollar 



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How the Ladies Earned 
Their Dollar 

Or 

Mrs. Toploft's Scheme 



By 
ORISSA W. GLEASON 

Author of ''How the Story Grew," "How the Club Was 

Formed," "Trouble in Santa Claus Land," "A Modem 

Sewing Society" "The Atmual Picnic of the 

Muggsville Sunday School" etc. 




j^BO S TOHfV 



BOSTON 

WALTER H. BAKER COMPANY 

1922 



How the Ladies Earned Their Dollar 

Mrs. Toploft's Scheme "?& fyfi* 



CHARACTERS 

Mrs. Hanna Smart, the President of the Society, 

Mrs. Miranda Knowall, the Secretary. 

Mrs. Matilda Thrifty, the Treasurer. 

Mrs. Samantha Blunt 

Mrs. Martha Easygoing 

Mrs. Maria Doolittle 

Mrs. Betsy Toploft 

Mrs. Phcebe Righteous 

Mrs. Prudence Wise 

Miss Octavia Prim 

Miss Mollie Sensible 

Miss Dorothy Uptodate 

Mlle. Hermaline Francaise 



v Members. 



Scene: Mrs. Smart's parlor. 
Time : Any convenient hour. 



The reports read by the ladies need not be memorized. 
Read them from the book. Costumes should be adapted 
to the name and disposition of the character. Mrs. Top- 
loft is fifty-five years old ; Mrs. Wise is seventy ; Miss 
Prim about forty-five ; Miss Sensible twenty-five ; Miss 
Uptodate and Mlle. Francaise about twenty. The others 
are middle aged. 




Copyright, 1922, by Orissa W. Gleason. 



All rights reserved 

0011422 

©GI.D (52HI.O 



TMP92-009258 



"WO I 



How the Ladies Earned Their 
Dollar 

Or 

Mrs. Toploft's Scheme 



SCENE. — Mrs. Smart's parlor. 

(As the curtain rises all the ladies are assembled, talk- 
ing and laughing. Much confusion. Clock strikes 
three. Mrs. Smart raps on table in centre. They 
continue to talk. She raps again. They take seats, 
arranged about stage. Mrs. Smart and Mrs. 
Knowall at table in centre.) 

Mrs. Smart (with dignity). Ladies of the Ashville 
Benevolent Society, you will please come to order. I am 
greatly pleased to welcome so many of you to my home 
this afternoon and trust that this will prove a profitable 
meeting to us all. {Ahem.) As you know, our society 
is not a church organization, but is open to all women of 
our village without regard to age, rank, race, creed or 
politics. (Ahem.) Our purpose is to help the poor, not 
only those in our own country but all over the world. 
Since the formation of our organization, less than a year 
ago, we have accomplished much good and done many 
charitable acts. (Ahem.) Thus far we have been able 
to send five dozen palm-leaf fans to the Esquimo chil- 
dren, four dozen red flannel shirts to the poor whites at 
Palm Beach, ten dozen paper roses to the " shut ins " in 
Mexico, and ten strings of wax beads to the women of 
the Near East. This will give you some idea of the 

3 



4 HOW THE LADIES EARNED THEIR DOLLAR 

magnitude of our work. (Ahem.) We have also col- 
lected and sent to the illiterate miners in India much 
reading matter. These new publications were among the 
books sent, " The Proper Phraseology of the Words of 
the English Language as Used in the Best Society, ,, 
" The Uplifting of the Lower Classes Through the Me- 
dium of Association," and " The Etiquette of the Caba- 
ret as Compared with a Beacon Hill Banquet of 1776." 
Our work for the afternoon is the making of cheese- 
cloth dresses for the young married women of Green- 
land. These, we feel, will be an incentive to the devel- 
opment of the love for the beautiful which all women 
should (Ahem.) cultivate. (Ahem. Ladies applaud.) 
We will open our meeting by singing our Opening Ode. 

(She raps. Ladies rise and sing to the tune of 
"America.") 

O woman! 'tis for thee 
To work for char-i-tee 
With all your might ! 
Long may this Club endure, 
To aid and help the poor, 
The sick and weak to cure, 
And comfort bring. 

(In singing they endeavor to pronounce the words 
plainly, but do not keep together, making it a farce.) 

Mrs. Smart. I will now ask our Secretary, Mrs. 
Knowall, to call the roll. As there is a fine of five cents 
for being absent I feel that it is very important to be 
exact in this matter. (Sits.) 

(As Mrs. Knowall calls the roll each member, with 
the exception of Grandma Wise, rises and bows to 
the President.) 

Mrs. Knowall (rising, speaks before calling the roll). 
Madam President, I would have you understand that it 
is wholly unnecessary for you to remind me of the neces- 
sity of being exact in regard to the duties of my office. 
Right here let me say that if all the officers of this Soci- 



HOW THE LADIES EARNED THEIR DOLLAR 5 

ety were as painstaking as the Secretary, we might have 
more money in our treasury. I will now proceed to call 
the roll. Mrs. Hannah Smart, our honored President; 
Mrs. Miranda Knowall, the efficient Secretary, (Puts 
doom book and makes a very low bow to Mrs. Smart.) 
Mrs. Matilda Thrifty, our Treasurer; Mrs. Samantha 
Blunt, Mrs. Martha Easygoing, Mrs. Maria Doolittle, 
Mrs. Betsy Toploft, Mrs. Phoebe Righteous, Mrs. Pru- 
dence Wise, (Who says, " Yes, I'm here.") Miss Mollie 
Sensible, Miss Octavia Prim, Miss Dorothy Uptodate, 
(Who bows with a military salute.) Mile. Hermaline 
Francaise. (Who makes a low bow and throws a kiss to 
Mrs. Smart.) 

Mrs. Smart (rises). I am very glad to see that all of 
our members are present. 

Mrs. Thrifty (very indignant). Well, I ain't! I do 
wish -that somebody or other would stay at home once in 
a while so that we could get more money in our treasury. 
I don't know what Mrs. Knowall is a-flinging at me all 
the time about having more money. I guess I pinch 
what little we get about as hard, as hard as anybody 
could. 

Grandma Wise. Land sakes alive, Matilda Thrifty! 
Don't you mind one word that Miranda Knowall says. 
She ain't wuth minding. Why, she wouldn't live if she 
couldn't slur somebody. I guess you are as niggardly 
with our money as you orter be, and a leetle grain 
more so. 

Miss Sensible (rises). How queer to intimate that 
Mrs. Thrifty is extravagant. I think she takes extra 
good care of the money of our society. I feel that more 
discrimination ought be used in the selection of the ar- 
ticles we purchase to send away and also we must be 
very careful to send them to proper localities. 

Mrs. Knowall. Miss Sensible, even though you do 
teach the children of this village, it is very unbecoming 
for you to criticize the conduct of your elders. I would 
have you know that I am chairman of that committee and 
necessarily the matter of selection and everything else 
pertaining to the committee's duties are done above re- 
proach. You need trouble yourself no further. 



6 HOW THE LADIES EARNED THEIR DOLLAR 

Miss Sensible. Beg pardon, Mrs. Knowall. Of 
course you know best. {Laughs.) 

Grandma Wise. Perhaps she does and then again 
perhaps she don't. Humph! 

Mrs. Smart (raps and rises). Before proceeding I 
am very sorry to be obliged to speak about a little matter 
that I have had brought to my attention. Every member 
is expected to rise and bow to me, the President of the 
Ashville Benevolent Society, at roll call, and I am very, 
very sorry to see that one member never does. 

Grandma Wise (laughs). Well, well, well, I s'pose 
you mean me, as I am the only one that don't get up and 
bow and scrape around like a Jack-in-the-box. I dun 
know as I want to make you feel so bad, Hannah, but I 
can tell you one thing. I shall never rise one inch from 
this chair to bow to you or nobody else. I jined this so- 
ciety to work for charity. I ain't no Jumping Jack. 

Mrs. Smart. We expect all of our members to con- 
form to our rules. 

Grandma Wise. Well, for goodness' sake, Hannah, 
go right on expecting. It won't hurt you none. 

Mrs. Toploft. Madam President, I think perhaps we 
ought excuse Grandma. Age, you know, should be 
respected. 

Grandma Wise. Yes, I'm old, I know, but I ain't 
ashamed on't. I suppose I might dolly up some, color 
my hair, paint my face red and daub some black on my 
eyebrows and rig up in showy clothes, same as some do, 
but, land sakes ! it don't make much odds how you look 
if you're only clean. 

Mrs. Toploft. I think personal allusions are in very 
bad taste. I move that we proceed with our meeting. 

Grandma Wise (laughs). Well, well, shoe fitted, 
didn't it? I meant it should. Humph! Sixty and try- 
ing to look like sixteen. Poor critter ! 

Mrs. Smart (raps and rises). I will now ask our 
Secretary to read the records of our last meeting. 

Mrs. Knowall (rises and reads). Ashville, April 12, 
1922. The regular meeting of the Ashville Benevolent 
Society was held at the home of Miss Mollie Sensible. 
The roll call showed that all were present. The records 



HOW THE LADIES EARNED THEIR DOLLAR J 

of the last meeting were read and approved, as I knew 
they would be as / do everything just right. The Treas- 
urer, Mrs. Matilda Thrifty, reported that there was thir- 
teen dollars and thirty cents now in the treasury. I 
sometimes wonder where all our money goes to. This 
being so small a sum and the call for money so great, 
plans were discussed for the raising of money. After 
much foolish and unnecessary talk, Mrs. Betsy Toploft 
spoke of a scheme that the ladies voted at once to adopt. 
The plan is not original with her, as she has known of its 
being tried in other places. I speak of this, as I think 
that Mrs. Toploft should have what little credit she de- 
serves and no more. The meeting adjourned at five 
o'clock, after voting to hold the next meeting at the home 
of the President, Mrs. Hannah Smart. Respectfully 
submitted, Mrs. Matilda Knowall, Secretary of the Ash- 
ville Benevolent Society. (Sits.) 

Mrs. Smart (rises). Does any one see any errors in 
the records ? If not, I 

Mrs. Thrifty (angrily, as she rises and steps for- 
ward). Yes, I do, or ruther I'd like to speak a few re- 
marks. That 'ere book that Mrs. Knowall writes her 
slush records in, cost twenty-five cents. I know all about 
it as I paid the bill at Barnard's. Now what I'd like to 
know is this. What right has she a-wasting the paper in 
that book a-blowing her own horn, a-telling how smart 
she is and a-twitting the other officers, who are ten times 
more worthy than she is ? I'll take care of the money of 
this club without any of her help, and I won't have that 
book wasted that I paid a whole quarter for. So there ! 

Mrs. Toploft (rises). Madam President, I fully 
agree with what Mrs. Thrifty says and also with the 
spirit in which she says it. The records should not be 
tolerated. I feel that her remarks are an insult to us all. 

(Sits.) 

Mrs. Smart. Any more remarks? Shall the records 
be approved? 

Grandma Wise. Lor' yes ! Approve them, do. Mi- 
randa will be as mad as a hatter if you don't, and what 
do they amount to anyway? 



8 HOW THE LADIES EARNED THEIR DOLLAR 

Mrs. Smart (raps). The records are approved. 
Now I am going to ask Mrs. Toploft to go over again 
the plan we voted to adopt at our last meeting for the 
raising of money. 

Mrs. Toploft (rises and speaks haughtily). Not- 
withstanding the rude and ignorant remarks of our Sec- 
retary, Mrs. Knowall, I feel that I am entitled to much 
praise for laying before our society my very clever 
scheme for raising money, the scheme that I unfolded to 
you at our last meeting. I have never engaged person- 
ally in this scheme but from what I have heard rumored 
about it it certainly is a grand, noble and philanthropic 
affair. It is this. Each member of our society was in- 
formed that before the meeting of to-day she must earn 
a dollar. Earn it, not beg it of her husband, as most of 
you probably have to do when you desire funds. The 
dollar was to be brought here to-day with a written ac- 
count of how it was earned. This account is to be read 
before the society. In this way we shall, undoubtedly, 
replenish our depleted treasury and gain information 
both practical and valuable. (Sits.) 

Grandma Wise (leans forward and offers Mrs. Top- 
loft smelling salts). Here, Betsy, quick, smell of this! 
It will clean them big words out of your throat before 
they choke yer. 

Mrs. Toploft. Thanks, but I want none of your vul- 
gar remedies. 

Grandma Wise. Hoity, toity! You don't say? 
Well, well, Betsy, there's lots of queer critters in this 
world. 

Mrs. Smart (rises and raps). Now, ladies, I think 
we all understand and are prepared for our afternoon's 
programme. I will ask Mile. Francaise and Miss Up- 
todate to pass the sewing materials. We can sew and 
listen to the reports of the ladies at the same time. 

(Business of passing work. After supplying the 
others, one piece of the cheese-cloth is offered to 
Mrs. Toploft.) 

Mrs. Toploft. No, thanks. I never engage in such 
plebeian work as sewing. 



HOW THE LADIES EARNED THEIR DOLLAR 9 

Grandma Wise (to whom another piece is offered). 
Don't give any of them fol-de-rols to me; I don't know- 
nothing about 'em. 

Mrs. Smart (rises). Now, ladies, as I call your 
names each one of you will please come forward, read 
your report and put your money into this basket. 

Mrs. Knowall. I think it will be a good plan for at ' 
least three of us to count the money before it is given to 
the Treasurer, in order to actually know how much we 
have. We can't be too careful about our money affairs. 

Mrs. Blunt. Well, I hain't said nothing afore, but 
I've been a-thinking as I set here of what my marm used 
to say, " Those that have been in the oven look there for 
their friends." (All laugh.) 

Mrs. Smart (raps). I think the fairest way will be 
to call for your reports alphabetically. In doing so Mrs. 
Samantha Blunt will come first on the list. 

Mrs. Blunt. Well, I dun know as I sense what you 
mean by that 'ere big word, but I'd as soon read fust as 
last. I've got my dollar and I got it honest too. (She 
opens her paper in a clumsy manner, comes forward, and 
reads in a loud voice.) " How I Earned My Dollar." 
When I began to look around to see what I could do to 
earn a dollar I thought I'd got myself into a pretty 
scrape, for not a blessed way could I think on. You all 
know my husband, Jonathan Blunt, and you know just 
what a stingy, close-fisted man he is, so there's no use of 
pertending that his wings have pricked through his over- 
coat yet. I knew that no matter how I earned my dollar 
he'd declare 'twas hisn, so I couldn't ask a few more 
cents for my milk and butter than I had been a-doing and 
get a dollar that way. If I dug dandelions and sold 
them to market he'd claim the money, as the land on 
which I dug 'em was hisn. I had enamost gin up a-try- 
ing, when a real slick young fellow came to the house and 
wanted to know if I had any old furniture to sell. Our 
house is a-running over full of it, some bought in the 
time of Adam, but I daresn't sell any on't. I told the 
young fellar all about it, as I don't believe in lying. He 
sorter laughed and said, " You must have something of 
your own you could sell." I told him I didn't know that 



10 HOW THE LADIES EARNED. THEIR DOLLAR 

I had one thing I could call my very own. Well, he kept 
on a-talking and finally I happened to think of an old 
trunk I kept under my bed and hadn't opened for years. 
When I opened it the fust thing I laid my eyes on was a 
bundle of old letters, all bound round with a blue ribbon. 
'Twas the letters Jonathan wrote me afore we was mar- 
ried, when I did have something of my own. The young 
fellar seemed so anxious to read one on 'em that I let 
him. He read one right out loud. " My Own Dear Lit- 
tle Sweetheart : — Your eyes are like the stars, your teeth 
are like pearls, your hair is like spun gold, your cheeks 
are like the red, red rose, you are divine, too lovely to be 
human." There was a lot more of such nonsense, and it 
did seem to tickle that fellar awfully. He said he'd give 
me a dollar and thirty-seven cents for the whole lot. At 
first I didn't think I could sell 'em, for I knew Jonathan 
would claim the money, cause he paid for the postage 
stamps and the paper they was writ on. The fellar said 
he wanted them to sell to a Boston Sunday newspaper, 
and wished he'd got a picter of me to go with 'em. I 
found one in the trunk taken the very day I was married. 
How that fellar laughed when he looked at it! I sup- 
pose he was so glad to get it. He'd look at the picter 
and laugh and then look at me and laugh. Well, he 
seemed to want the letters and picter so bad that I let 
him have them. He's going to have them printed in the 
Sunday paper with my picter right alongside and he's 
going to write a piece to go with them named " The Hal- 
lucinations of a Man Intoxicated with Love." I don't 
sense what that means but he said 'twas the truth. Now 
that's the way I earned my dollar and I do hope Jonathan 
won't find me out. I think he copied them letters from 
an old Letter Writer and, my land ! of course he's forgot 
how I looked when I was married. At any rate he hain't 
spoke of my being pretty for years. 

(Puts money in basket; sits.) 

(During the reading of all the reports, the ladies indi- 
cate their approval or otherwise by nods, etc. Mlle. 
Francaise and Miss Uptodate are much amused.) 



HOW THE LADIES EARNED THEIR DOLLAR II 

Mlle. Francaise (clasps her hands and exclaims). 
O ze bu-ti-ful lof lettaires ! How could you sell 'em? I 
keeps zem all ways and for-ev-er. O ze bu-ti-ful lof 
and ze lof lettaires ! 

Grandma Wise. Humph ! Law sakes, child ! Love 
letters ain't all there is to love. There's lots and lots of 
things mixed up with it. 

Mlle. Francaise. Oh, Grandma! Like ze what? 

Grandma Wise. Oh, divorces, quarrels, and I have 
hearn tell of murders. 

Mlle. Francaise. Oh, ter-ri-ble ! ter-ri-ble! You 
makes me, vat you calls it? Oh, ze a-fraid ! 

Grandma Wise. Humph! You needn't be scairt 
about it as I knows on. If anybody wants you, go ahead 
and marry 'em. I guess you can stand it, the same as 
the rest of us have had to. 

Miss Prim. I don't see how you could part with 
those beautiful letters. All blissful sentimentality must 
have withered in your bosom. 

Mrs. Blunt. Well, Octavia, you needn't bother your- 
self about parting with love letters, for you'll never have 
any. If you know when you're well off you won't han- 
ker arter them, either. I advise yer to let well enough 
alone. 

Mrs. Smart (raps). Mrs. Maria Doolittle, you may 
read your report. 

Mrs. Doolittle (who is nodding over her work). 
Oh, do I come next? I shall be glad to get it over with. 
(She steps forward and reads in a drazvling tone.) 
" How I Earned My Dollar." Nobody knows how 
scared I was when I found I'd got to earn a dollar, for 
I'd never earned a cent in my life. I was born and 
brought up on a farm where I helped with the house- 
work and also helped my father doing farmwork. He 
used to say that I could do more work than three of the 
boys, but I never earned any money in my life. I used 
to get awfully tired a-working on the farm and when I 
was eighteen married Thomas Doolittle to get rested, and 
I've been a-resting ever since. I've been the mother of 
nine children, all grown up and gone except Hepsy. I'm 
dreadful afraid she's a-going to be a useless old maid. 



12 HOW THE LADIES EARNED THEIR DOLLAR 

She seems bright enough. She's librarian down in the 
city, teaches night school, is President of a Woman's 
Club, runs the Red Cross Society, is something in the 
D. A. R.'s, belongs to the Rebeccas and Eastern Stars, 
but she don't seem to get a man, and I am worried to 
death fearing she'll be a useless old maid. When 
I told Thomas about earning a dollar he said, " Why, 
Maria, how can you earn a dollar?" He knew 
I never earned one in my life. I asked him if there 
wasn't something I could do in the garden that he could 
give me a dollar for, and he said that a woman was sup- 
posed to work for her husband for nothing, and that 
wouldn't be earning a dollar. Of course Thomas knew 
best, so I didn't say no more. All at once he spoke up 
and said, " Maria, I'll give you a dollar if you'll never go 
to the polls and vote again." You bet I was surprised to 
know how easy I could earn my dollar. I voted last fall 
and I kinder thought Thomas wa'n't very much pleased 
about it, though he didn't say nothing. He says my 
housework, helping him in the garden, splitting the kin- 
dlings, and making butter and cheese is about all a 
woman as delicate as I be ought to do. We've been mar- 
ried a good many years, but Thomas thinks a lot of me 
yet. That's the way I earned my dollar, and you don't 
know how pleased I am to know that at last I've earned 
some money. (Puts money in basket; sits.) 

Miss Prim. How perfectly lovely for husband and 
wife to dwell together in love ! 

Miss Uptodate. Don't that give you a jolt? Miss 
Prim, you are a very innocent old kid. 

Mrs. Smart (raps). Mrs. Martha Easygoing, please 
read your report. 

Mrs. Easygoing (reads in a monotone). "How I 
Earned My Dollar." I earned my dollar easier than I 
thought I should. My boy, Johnny, has been wanting a 
sweater for a long time, but his father hain't felt that he 
could buy him one, taxes being so high and the prices 
going up on everything. Johnny saved every cent he 
earned, and when he got two dollars, off he went to the 
clothing store to get his sweater. He came back feeling 
pretty blue, for the clothing man told him that sweaters 



HOW THE LADIES EARNED THEIR DOLLAR 13 

were four dollars and a half apiece. He knew it would 
be a long time before he could get the other two dollars 
and fifty cents and I did pity him as I knew that his fa- 
ther wouldn't feel like giving him one cent. Finally I 
told him that probably he'd never get enough to buy one, 
and then I told him about the poor Esquimaux, Mexicans 
and Indians that our Benevolent Society was helping and 
asked him if he didn't think it would be nice for him to 
give me one of his dollars for charity. I told him that 
he could keep the other dollar and come summer he could 
pick berries and run errands and perhaps by winter he'd 
have enough to buy a sweater. At first he didn't appear 
to want to let me have it, but when I made him see how 
much more the people in foreign lands needed fans, 
beads and story books than he did a sweater, he threw 
the money at me and said, " Gee ! if anybody wants the 
money more than me, let 'em have it ! "' He felt so sorry 
for the poor foreign people that he was almost crying, 
and grabbed his cap and rushed out of doors. That's the 
way I earned my dollar. 

(Puts her money in basket; sits.) 

Grandma Wise. Earned it ! I should say you stole 
it. Earned it indeed ! I'm ashamed for yer. 

Mrs. Toploft. A parent has a right to his children's 
earnings and I do not believe in pampering a boy's vanity. 

Mrs. Easygoing. Why, he wanted me to have it, real 
bad, or I wouldn't have took it. 

Mrs. Smart (raps). Mile. Hermaline Francaise will 
now read her report. 

Mlle. Francaise. Madam Press-i-dent, I now reads 
to you how I earns ze dollaire. I know not how to earn 
ze dollaire when first I begins. I ask mine friend, Leo, 
would he tell me ze way. He say he know not ze way. 
Bime-by he laugh and say, " I give ze dollaire for ze 
kees, n'est ce pas ? " I say, " Bad, bad Leo. I sell not ze 
keeses" Zen he say, " For me you knits ze pretty tie 
and gets ze dollaire." I knits ze tie and he gifs me ze 
dollaire and a kees to go wiz et. I keeps ze kees and gifs 
you ze dollaire. (Puts her money in basket; sits.) 

Miss Prim. Water! water! bring me some water! 



14 HOW THE LADIES EARNED THEIR DOLLAR 

I am so shocked I know I shall faint! Let a man kiss 
you ! Oh, it is scandalous ! 

(Business of fainting; no one notices it.) 

Grandma Wise. I suppose I might let you sniff my 
salts, but I guess you ain't so shocked as you might be. 

Mrs. Righteous. She'll come to if you let her alone. 

Mlle. Francaise. I do nozzing bad. Me and Leo 
has ze engaged. We be ze married next month. 

Miss Prim (having recovered). That makes no dif- 
ference. That money is tainted. We ought not accept 
it. Such actions are not allowed in the best society. 

Miss Sensible. You don't read the papers, do you, 
Miss Prim? 

Miss Prim. I don't have to in order to know what is 
decent. 

Mrs. Easygoing. I think myself that the girls now- 
adays are pretty bold and forward. 

Grandma Wise. Martha Easygoing, don't you say 
one word. It ain't half so bad to kiss your beau as 'tis to 
steal from your own flesh and blood. You can all let 
that gal alone. She hain't done nothing bad. Little gal, 
you go right on kissing your beau all you want to. It 
won't hurt him nor you nuther. Miss Prim would like a 
chance, I reckon. 

Mlle. Francaise. Thanks to ze good Grandma. 

Mrs. Smart (raps). Mrs. Miranda Knowall, our 
Secretary, is next on the list. 

Mrs. Knowall (very pompously). Madam Presi- 
dent, of course there were so many, many ways by which 
I could earn a dollar it was quite a difficult task for me 
to decide just what I should do. When a woman is as 
a bright and shining light among her sister women, it 
naturally takes time and forethought to select the best 
way to earn a sum of money. Now I not only wanted 
to earn a dollar for our treasury but to earn it in such a 
way that I should feel that I had benefited some one. 
After putting much thought into the matter I fixed upon 
a plan. My husband's niece, who lives in an adjoining 
town, is to be married soon. Accordingly I invited her 
to come and spend a week with me. She isn't so very 



HOW THE LADIES EARNED THEIR DOLLAR 15 

young, being over thirty. She's always been obliged to 
earn her own living. She went out doing housework 
when she was a young girl, taught school for five years, 
did dressmaking for a while and for the last four or five 
years has been in a hospital as a nurse. When she came 
I told her frankly about my plan for earning a dollar 
and told her to ask me anything and everything she 
wanted to know and I would give her all the information 
she desired, just for the sum of one dollar. Somehow 
she didn't ask me many questions and only stayed two 
days, but I gave her a great deal of information and I 
know she was a much wiser woman when she went home 
than when she came. When she got ready to leave she 
passed me a dollar and said, " Aunt Miranda, I fear that 
you are suffering with a very common disease, known 
as an " enlarged cranium.' " Before she could say an- 
other word the trolley cars came and she got in and 
went off. I was very sorry as I wanted to ask her more 
about the disease. I haven't felt real well of late and 
if I thought the doctors knew more than I do I should 
see one, but of course they don't. However, I do feel a 
bit worried, being that she is a nurse. 

(Pitts her money in basket; sits.) 

Mrs. Thrifty. I wouldn't feel at all worried, Mrs. 
Knowall. You've had that disease ever since you were 
born and you are alive yet. 

Grandma Wise. 'Tain't a disease that kills the one 
who's got it. 

Miss Sensible. It only kills their associates. Is that 
it, Grandma? 

Mrs. Knowall. Strange, you all seem to know about 
this disease and / never heard of it. 

Miss Uptodate. Now what do you know about that ? 
Something that our efficient Secretary doesn't know! 
Wouldn't that jar your slats? 

Mrs. Smart (raps loudly). Miss Octavia Prim, your 
report, if you please. 

Miss Prim (simpering). Madam President, a young 
and naturally sentimental girl can often express herself 



l6 HOW THE LADIES EARNED THEIR DOLLAR 

in poetry better than in prose and for that reason I sub- 
mit my report in rhyme. 

A young and blushing damsel 

Must very careful be, 
To do nothing that's improper; 

That, of course, refers to me. 

Upon the street on which I dwell, 

In a lonely habitation, 
Lives Jason Jones, a widower, 

Who does need consolation. 

He's five small children, that to me 

Do look so cute and cunning, 
As I watch them, making their mud pies, 

And cross the street go running. 

Now Jason Jones, who owns these dears, 
Has no one to keep them clean, 

To mend their clothes or wash their ears, 
And keep them fit to be seen. 

I thought I'd go and offer aid, 

And in that way earn my dollar, 
In doing this I bashful felt, 

Miss Uptodate (to Mlle. Francaise). "You bet 
your scalp she did." 

(All laugh. Miss Prim looks scornfully at Miss Up- 
todate and reads on.) 

For I didn't know what might follow. 

He told me I might come next day, 
O how it makes me blush, (All laugh.) 

And sit right down in his first wife's chair, 
And sew until 'twas dusk. 

I got the children mended up, 

Before the clock struck four, 
Then Jason said he'd go inside, 

Perhaps he'd find some more. 



HOW THE LADIES EARNED THEIR DOLLAR 1 7 

The poor dear man then went inside, 

And I did set and rest, 
Until he came a-bringing me 

His Sunday coat and vest. 

Oh, the pure delight that I did feel, 

As in them I put stitches ! 
He didn't bring the rest of the suit, 

I wondered where was the — (Giggles.) er — 
er — rest of the suit. 

I enjoyed working on the children's clothes, 

Though they were awfully torn, 
But I most did like to handle the clothes 

That Jason Jones had worn. 

(Puts her money in basket; sits.) 

Mrs. Blunt. What idiots we meet with in our 
travels. 

Mrs. Righteous. I never knew it was the proper 
thing to run after a man, but I suppose times have 
changed. 

Grandma Wise. I don't care a rap if times have 
changed. There ain't no use chasing the men; let the 
men do the running. 

Miss Uptodate. Oh, Grandma, you're way off your 
base ! We girls do have to do some pretty lively vamp- 
ing to get a fellow these days. I'll tell the world the 
boys are dead slow when it comes to jazzing to the little 
old wedding march. 

Mrs. Righteous. Well, I don't blame 'em. If the 
girls are like some I've seen, I'd keep clear of them. 

Mrs. Smart (raps). Mrs. Phoebe Righteous, you are 
next in turn. 

Mrs. Righteous (reads hesitatingly). How I Earned 
My Dollar. To earn a dollar seemed a great undertaking 
for me and if Providence hadn't helped me out I don't 
know where I'd got my dollar to bring here to-day. My 
husband's wealthy nephew lives in Boston and goes to 
some school there. It has a great, long name. It sounds 



l8 HOW THE LADIES EARNED THEIR DOLLAR 

like Tacks on Knowledge. Well, this nephew came up 
to our house to " spend the week-end " he said. He 
probably knew what he meant, but / didn't, but he came 
just the same. I always was a master hand to play 
checkers. Now if I do say it, who hadn't orter, I can 
beat most everybody at the game and my man knows it. 

We got to talking about the game and William, that's 
the nephew's name, said that he could beat the man who 
invented the game. " You can't beat your Aunt Phoebe," 
my husband said. " Bet your life I can," said William, 
turning up his nose at the very idea. Now this was my 
time, and I asked him if he would give me a dollar if 
I could beat him. " Sure Mike ! " he said. He uses 
queer language but they teach all kinds of language at 
the schools nowadays. I beat him so quick and he was so 
worked up over it that he wanted to keep right on play- 
ing. Just to humor him I did, and beat him every game. 
After we had played five games he handed me a five- 
dollar bill and went off to bed. That's the way I earned 
my dollar. I'll give you two dollars of it and keep the 
other three to pay to the church, seeing I got it so easy. 

(Puts her money in basket; sits.) 

Mrs. Toploft. I may be in the wrong, but to me the 
whole proceeding savors somewhat of gambling. I really 
wonder if it is right for us to accept money gotten in 
such a questionable manner. 

Mlle. Francaise. Oh, Madam Right-e-ous, your 
money has ze taint on it, like mine has ! 

Mrs. Righteous. William might have been gambling, 
but I didn't put up any money so I didn't. I played to 
earn a dollar for charity. 

Mlle. Francaise. Oh, I see, I see! It is not ze 
same. Your money has only half ze taint. 

Mrs. Smart (raps). Miss Mollie Sensible, please 
read your report. 

Miss Sensible. I earned my dollar in so many ways 
that I am really at a loss to tell you just how I earned 
it. Of course you know I teach the village school and 
receive a very munificent salary! I might have taken 
one of those hard-earned dollars but I chose to do other- 



HOW THE LADIES EARNED THEIR DOLLAR 19 

wise. One night after school was dismissed I went home, 
got a pail and knife, went down to the meadow and dug 
dandelions. These I sold my mother for twenty-five 
cents. The next evening my brother wanted some but- 
tons sewed on his jacket. Instead of doing it for noth- 
ing as I usually do, I charged him five cents. Father 
was going to town next day and I suggested that he pay 
me twenty cents for blacking his boots. My sum had 
now attained the dignity of half a dollar. One evening 
the whole family attended a church sociable. I remained 
at home and put twenty-five cents, the price of admis- 
sion, with my precious half dollar. I am very fond of 
cream on my oatmeal, and I use lots of it. I asked my 
mother if she would give me ten cents every morning I 
went without it. She almost fainted and said she would 
give me twenty-five cents if I would stop being so silly. 
At last I had my dollar, for I eagerly accepted the quar- 
ter. I used all the cream I wanted so I think my last 
amount was earned by not being silly. 

Miss Uptodate. Well, what do you know about that ! 
Believe me, I'd have gone to that sociable if I'd walked 
on my head. 

Mrs. Knowall. Thank goodness, we are not all 
alike. 

Mrs. Toploft. It is surely refreshing to know that 
there is such a difference in human beings. 

Mrs. Smart (raps). I believe I come next and will 
now read my report of how I earned my dollar. When 
the Ashville Benevolent Society voted to hold their meet- 
ing with me to-day I was well aware that my house must 
be cleaned and renovated from garret to cellar, elsewise 
I should never hear the last of it. It is perfectly nat- 
ural for a woman to look around to discover filth and 
dirt in other people's homes notwithstanding there may 
be cart loads in her own. Pardon me for speaking so 
plainly, but I know whereof I speak. My literary du- 
ties, as President of this society, renders it impossible 
for me to do my own housecleaning, and as my husband 
is very generous in money matters I am under no obli- 
gations to do so. For some time I have employed the 
Widow Bean, who has six small children to support, to 



20 HOW THE LADIES EARNED THEIR DOLLAR 

do my work. I have been paying her twelve cents an 
hour, as that is what others gave her. You will all 
agree with me that her price is too high, but out of the 
kindness of my heart I have paid it without a word. To 
go all over my house was considerable of an undertaking 
and would keep her busy for several days. 

As my money was to be used for charity I thought it 
right and proper to ask the Widow Bean to come down 
on her price. She had the effrontery to tell me that she 
didn't feel that she was in any condition to do charitable 
acts. When I told her that I should have some one else 
do the work, if she did not consent to do it at half price, 
that settled it. She agreed to clean my whole house for 
six cents an hour, saying that in order to get the bare 
necessities of life for her children she must do all the 
work she could get at any price. I thought that she took 
a very sensible view of the matter. During the next 
three days she worked in all twenty-seven hours, for 
which, you will see at once, I paid her one dollar and 
sixty-two cents. At the price she asks regularly I should 
have been obliged to have given her three dollars and 
twenty-four cents. Those of you who have sufficient 
education to work out this problem will see that I not 
only earned one dollar but one dollar and twenty- four 
cents, all of which I gladly donate to the society. 

(Puts her money in basket; sits.) 

Grandma Wise. Well of all the proceedings! My 
stars and garters ! What are we a-coming to ? 

Mrs. Doolittle. That was a dreadful cute way to 
earn a dollar. Nobody but Mrs. Smart would have 
thought of it. 

Grandma Wise. Sakes alive ! I'm plaguey glad we 
hain't got any more like her. 

Mlle. Francaise. Don't yous like ze money, 
Grandma? Has et ze taint too? 

Grandma Wise. Humph ! Tainted nothing, it's rot- 
ten! 

Mrs. Smart (raps loudly). Like all philanthropists 
I feel that I am misjudged. Mrs. Thrifty, our Treasurer, 
will now read her report. 



HOW THE LADIES EARNED THEIR DOLLAR 21 

Mrs. Thrifty (reads very decisively). Madam Presi- 
dent, my motto through life has always been to waste 
nothing, neither time, clothes, bread crumbs or a per- 
son's feelings. I knew at once just what course I should 
take to get my money. It really seemed as if this plan 
of Mrs. Toploft's had been adopted for my benefit. 

Four years ag©- my husband raised some popping corn 
that wouldn't pop. We did every known thing to it but 
still it wouldn't pop. Obadiah got so disgusted with it 
that he turned it down on the garret floor, and thought 
that perhaps it might be good for something later on. 
The rats and mice got into it and run over it, but we 
put the cat up there nights and kept them away all we 
could. I told Obadiah what I planned to do with that 
corn and as he had no use for it he told me to go ahead. 
I did. I took that corn, shelled it off the cob, picked up 
what was on the garret floor, washed it and dried it in 
the oven and made it look real stomachable. Then I 
measured it. There was just five quarts of it. I sent 
one of the boys down to the paper mill to beg some pa- 
per and we made pint bags. We had just ten bags, you 
see, by putting it into the pint bags, and the boys took it 
over to Westvale and sold it round to the houses for ten 
cents a bag. They thought they'd better go to West- 
vale to sell it where nobody knew them and I thought 
so too. They had no trouble in selling it for they told 
the folks that it was a new variety. That was the truth 
because it was entirely new. That's the way I earned 
my dollar. 

(Puts her money in basket; sits.) 

Mrs. Knowall. I must say that I do not approve of 
bringing up children to be deceitful. 

Mrs. Tpirifty. Mrs. Knowall, we need money to 
carry on our noble work and I believe in getting all we 
can in all the ways we can. If people will believe all that 
children say and are foolish enough to buy of peddlers 
I don't care if they do get cheated, so there ! 

Mrs. Smart (raps). Mrs. Betsy Toploft, your report, 
if you please. 

Mrs. Toploft (pompously). Of course, as every one 



22 HOW THE LADIES EARNED THEIR DOLLAR 

in Ashville knows, money is of little consequence in nfy 
home; that is to say, I have only to make known my 
wants and out of my dear husband's abundance plenty 
of money is supplied me. Under such conditions as 
these all that it was necessary for me to do was to ask 
my husband for a dollar to be put into the treasury of 
this society and it would, at once, be forthcoming. But 
it was stipulated in the bond (that, ladies, is a familiar 
saying of Shakespeare, -although you of course are not 
aware of it), that we must not ask our husbands for it. 
A lady of my standing cannot do any menial work so I 
originated a plan wholly of my own designing. In all 
probability no woman ever has thought of it. My hus- 
band's clothes are arranged en a chair at night in a very 
orderly manner. Every garment has its own individual 
place, so you will understand that his pants, or more 
properly speaking, his trousers, are very easy of aecess. 
On the eventful night of which I am speaking we re- 
tired at about ten-thirty. After two hours of waiting 
came the welcome sound of snoring. In a few minutes 
the roar of the Niagara was as naught to that which 
emerged from his throat. Stealthily I reached for those 
trousers, took some money from the pockets, I am not 
disclosing just how much, and returned to bed for a 
peaceful night's rest, for I had earned my dollar. 

{Puts her money in basket; sits.) 

Grandma Wise. Speaking of Shakespeare. Land 
sakes ! I know some too that jest fits m here. " On 
horror's head horrors accumulate."^ I learned that out 
of my reader when I was a gal. I think maybe it was 
Mr. Macbeth that said it. 

Mrs. Blunt. Any woman who has a husband -that 
snores earns her money forty times over and hadn't 
orter be obliged to pick his pockets to get it either. I 
declare some nights I feel like setting out on the porch 
all night, but I don't think 'twould make much difference 
as you can hear my man snore for a considerable dis- 
tance, I can tell yer. 

Mrs. Smart (raps). Miss Dorothy Uptodate wMl now 
read her report. 



HOW THE LADIES EARNED THEIR DOLLAR 23 

Miss Uptodate. Madam President and Ladies of the 
Ashville Benevolent Society. (Ahem-ahem.) Believe 
me, I had more fun earning my dollar than a barrel of 
monkeys. I'd like to earn one in the same way every 
day in the week. You all know Captain Murray who 
lives in the big house on the hill. I had always been told 
that he was a stingy, cross old " bohunks." You know 
he has a greenhouse just running over full of the most 
wonderful flowers. Such " oodles " of roses, and the 
lilies, well I should smile ! Now I knew that there was 
to be a ball game over to Memorial Park and I thought 
if I only had some roses I'd go over and sell them to the 
boys and earn some money, but I hadn't even the smell 
of a flower. All at once I had a bright idea in my think- 
box and I planned to go over after dark and swipe some 
of Captain Murray's roses. As long as the money was 
going for charity I knew there could be no harm in it. 
I waited until it was quite dark so as to be sure that the 
old chap was snugly tucked in his little bed, then I 
grabbed the basket and beat it. With the help of my 
sidewalk slappers I navigated to the back of the house, 
and, — what do you know? Right on the back piazza sat 
Captain Murray as big as life. Now let me tell you 
right here that the man that I thought was an old " tight 
wad " is just too " spoofy " for anything. He said just 
as nice as if I had been one of his old flames, " Good- 
evening, little girl, I am more than pleased to receive a 
call from you/' Well, sayi you could have knocked me 
for a row of gooseberries, but I caught on to myself and 
gave him the glad hand, and said, " Good-evening, I am 
so happy to meet you." Then I told him that I was a 
member of this Benevolent Society and all about our 
scheme to raise money, so that we could send gewgaws to 
the poor foreigners. He laughed till he was red in the face 
when I told him about the lovely things we had already 
sent. When he closed his laughing trap I told him that 
I had come over to ask him to donate a few roses to 
sell for sweet charity. The dear old duck told me that 
I had the right dope and to take all I wanted. You can 
bet I filled my basket. He invited me in, to tickle the 
ivories and warble a little for him, and asked me to come 



24 HOW THE LADIES EARNED THEIR DOLLAR 

again. I had a wonderful time entertaining that swell 
old couple, for I found his other half to be just as 
friendly as he was. I took those roses, went to the 
Park, sold them to the ball kids for ten cents apiece, 
raked in four dollars, all of which I give to the Ashville 
Benevolent Society. 

{Puts her money in basket; counts i, 2, 3, 4, and sits.) 

Mrs. Toploft. Dear, dear me ! The young people of 
to-day are most assuredly sadly lacking in manners and 
morals. 

Miss Prim. The language that Dorothy Uptodate 
uses ought not be tolerated. How can we accept her 

Mrs. Smart (raps furiously). Mrs. Prudence Wise, 
or as we all call her, Grandma, will now report how she 
earned her dollar. 

Grandma (she does not rise but speaks sitting). I 
didn't earn no dollar so I hain't got no report to make. 
Here's a dollar. I don't know how 'twas earned and I 
dun know as I care as long as I've got it. (Passes it to 
Miss Prim, who sits beside her, who puts it in the 
basket.) I don't suppose that anybody thought that a 
woman of my age would go a galivanting around acting 
as if I was half-baked, trying to make out I was earning 
a dollar. 

All you women folks have known me ever since you 
was born and you know I say just what I think and don't 
care a rap whether you like it or not. Now I've got a 
little benevolent work of my own to do and I'm a-going 
to speak a few remarks about it. I put a ten-dollar bill 
into this 'ere bag of mine when I started out this arter- 
noon and was a-going to put it into that 'ere basket, but 
I've changed my mind, in order to do some charity work 
on my own hook. I've sot here this arternoon and hearn 
your reports and larned a good deal about every one on 
yer. Now I'll tell you all what I think about yer way of 
earning your dollars. 

Samantha Blunt sold her old love letters to get her 
money. That was all right, as the young feller who 
bought 'em knew jest what he was a-getting when he 
took 'em. Nobody was cheated; and them kind of folks 



HOW THE LADIES EARNED THEIR DOLLAR 2$ 

who read Sunday papers when they should be reading 
something better will probably get lots of fun out of 
Samantha's letters and picter. 

Maria Doolittle, poor thing, who thinks she never has 
earned any money, sold her vote and her liberty to get 
her money. Yes, sold her vote and her liberty for one 
dollar. Well, I shan't say anything to her. The men 
often do the same thing and why shouldn't Maria? 

Martha Easygoing, you know just exactly what I think 
of you, a-taking your boy's money when he wanted a 
sweater. I declare, you don't desarve to have a boy. 
Now this is where my charity work begins. Martha, you 
send that boy of yourn over to my house to-morrow 
morning and I'll set him to work around the yard for a 
while and when he comes home at noon he'll have as 
good a sweater as there is in the clothing store. 

Mrs. Easygoing. Thank you, Grandma. He'll be 
awfully pleased, I know. I'll send him real early. 

Grandma Wise (continuing). Little Miss Frenchy 
here earned her money, fair and square, by knitting a 
tie for her beau. She got well paid for it, and I'm glad 
she did. Let me know when you get married and I'll 
send you something real nice. 

(Mlle. says, "Thanks, Good Grandma.") 

Miranda Knowall sold some of her brains to get her 
dollar. That was all right too. // Miranda has got any 
brains to sell, why I suppose she's got a perfect right to 
sell 'em. 

You can't any of you say that Octavia Prim didn't 
earn her money, a-cleaning up Jason Jones' young ones 
and mending his rags. 

Now, Octavia, if you want Jason Jones I do hope to 
mercy you'll get him, but let me tell you one thing, mend- 
ing a man's clothes and taking care of his young ones 
afore you are married is very different from doing it 
arter you are married. 

Phoebe Righteous gambled for her money, but as long 
as she didn't know it and as she probably took a good 
deal of the consate out of that nephew of hern I guess, 
arter all, she did a good job. 



26 HOW THE LADIES EARNED THEIR DOLLAR 

Mollie Sensible took lots of ways to earn her dollar 
but she didn't cheat anybody or do anything improper. 
We orter have more like her in our club. 

Matilda Thrifty, if I knew just where them boys of 
yourn sold that dirty old corn I'd go myself and give 
every one on 'em ten cents. I don't, so I can't do^any- 
thing about it. All is, if them boys gfow up to be hon- 
est, upright men you won't have yourself to thank for it. 

The way I look at Mrs. Betsy Toploft's performance 
is this : What's hern is hisn and what's hisn is hern. 

Dorothy Uptodate is a queers girl, yes, a very queer 
girl. She's real pretty but I'm afraid she knows it. 
She does dress funny for a gal, and usos queer words, 
but she's young yet and thinks she knows it all. Now 
if Dorothy had 'a' stolen the Captain's roses I'd go and 
pay him for every one on 'em, but as long as he give 
'em to her it's all right. I'm drefful glad, Dorothy, you 
had such a good time a-selling them to the boys. If 
there's anything I like to see it's the ydung folks hav- 
ing a good time. 

Mrs. Hannah Smart is " Our President/' yes, " Our 
Honored President," and because she is " Our Honored 
President " I ain't a-going to say one word about the 
way she — well — well — got her money. 

All is, I am going to call on the Widder Bean to-mor- 
row morning, and when I come away I shall leave a five- 
dollar bill a-laying on her table. That's what I'm going 
to do with the rest of the ten dollars that I didn't put 
into the basket. There, I feel better now I've freed my 
mind. 

{Ladies begin to talk excitedly. Mrs. Smart raps 
loudly and says " Order I Order! " Confusion 
ceases.) 

Mrs. Smart (very dignified). I feel that we have 
spent a profitable and pleasant afternoon. Nothing has 
occurred to mar the spirit of harmony that exists among 
us. Mrs. Knowall may now count the money in the bas- 
ket before it is given to Mrs. Thrifty. 

(Business of counting money by MiiS. Knowall.) 



HOW THE LADIES EARNED THEIR DOLLAR 2J 

Mrs. Know all. There, there's just seventeen dollars 
and twenty-four cents. You will all please remember, 
seventeen dollars and twenty-four cents. 

(Mrs. Knowall passes basket to Mrs. Thrifty who 
passes it to Miss Sensible.) 

Mrs. Thrifty. I'm very glad to have Miranda Know- 
all count it. Now I want Miss Sensible to count it. I 
can depend on her. 

Miss Sensible (counts money). Just as she says, 
seventeen dollars and twenty-four cents. 

Mrs. Thrifty (business of adding on paper). Which, 
added to the thirteen dollars and thirty cents now in the 
treasury, makes thirty dollars and fifty-four cents. All 
please remember, thirty dollars and fifty-four cents. 

Mrs. Smart. Quite a snug little sum. Now if 
Grandma had put in her ten dollars 

Grandma Wise. But I didn't put it in. I've got to 
pay your .debts and buy Martha's boy a sweater. I won't 
have this society a-cheating anybody. 

Mrs. Smart (raps quickly). We will now proceed to 
close. The young ladies will pick up the work. (Busi- 
ness of picking up work.) Ladies, please stand and re- 
peat our motto. Perhaps it will be well for our Secre- 
tary to read our motto before we repeat it as some of 
you have not yet committed it perfectly. 

Mrs. Knowall (reads). We are banded together to 
promote benevolence, honesty, truthfulness, harmony and 
love. We abhor and will strive to root out all deceitful- 
ness, conceit, backbiting, gossip, falsehood and frivolity 
from our village. 

(Ladies stand and repeat, not keeping together, but 
making a farce of it. Mrs. Doolittle drawls out 
the words, " from our village," after the others are 
through repeating it.) 

Mrs* Smart (raps). The meeting is adjourned. 
CURTAIN 



GOOD-EVENING, CLARICE 

A Farce Comedy in Three Acts. By J. C. McMullen 

Five males, six females. Playing time, approximately two hours. 
Costumes of the present day. Scene — a single interior. Annette 
Franklin, a jealous wife, has been raising a little domestic war over 
her husband's supposed infatuation for a noted dancer, Clarice de 
Mauree. How Annette was proven wrong in her supposition, cured 
of her jealousy, and found her long lost parents, makes a comedy, 
which, while easy of production, proves very effective in the pre- 
sentation. The part of Clarice, the dancer, gives the opportunity 
for an excellent female character lead. All of the other parts are of 
equal importance and the situations fairly radiate comedy and swift 
moving action. This new play has already made its public debut 
in manuscript form, having been used with great success on the 
Pacific coast. Royalty, $10.00 for the first and $5.00 for each subse- 
quent performance by the same cast. Professional rates will be 
quoted on request. 

Scenes 
Act I. — Living-room of the Franklin residence, Buffalo, N. Y., 
7: 15 p. m. 
Act II.— The same, 8:15 p. m. 
Act III. — The same, 9 :oo p. M. 

Price, 50 cents. 

HIS UNCLE'S NIECE 

A Rollicking Farce in Three Acts. By Raymond W. Sargent 

Six males, three females. Scenery not difficult. The plot of this 
hilarious farce centres around a letter received by Francis Felt'on 
from his Uncle Simon of Happy Valley Junction, who has alwayr 
supposed that Francis was of the opposite sex. The letter an* 
nounces that the uncle has selected a husband for his niece and thai 
they are both on the way to New York to make final arrangements 
for the wedding. In desperation, to keep up a deception started 
years before by his parents, Francis assumes a female character 
role in order to carry out a provision whereby he is to receive a 
million dollar bequest from his uncle. The explanations made 
necessary through this change are amusing and realistic. The 
denouement is a surprise and one that will lift the audience to its 
feet with applause. You have seen Charley's Aunt on the pro- 
fessional stage, and here is a chance for amateurs to act in a play 
that is even better suited to their requirements. 

CHARACTERS 

Scenes 
Act I. — Interior of Francis Felton's and Richard Tate's bachelor 
establishment at Boston. 
Act II. — Same as Act I. Afternoon of the same day. 
Act III. — Exterior of Uncle Simon's summer home at Happy 
Valley Junction. Evening; three days later. 
Time: Midsummer. 
Time of playing: Approximately two hours. 
Price, 35 cents. 



SUNSHINE 

A Comedy in Three Acts. By Walter Ben Hare 

Four males, seven females. Scene, one simple exterior, easily ar- 
ranged with a small lot of potted plants and rustic furniture. This 
charming play was really written to order, to satisfy an ever growing 
demand for a comedy that could be used either as a straight play or 
as a musical comedy. The author has arranged a happy and real- 
istic blend of the two types of entertainment, and the catchy tunes 
which he has suggested should find favor in the amateur field. The 
story leads the audience a merry chase from snappy farce to real 
drama (with just a flavoring of the melodramatic) which modern 
audiences find so pleasing. Here we find a great character part in 
a popular baseball hero, who succeeds in making a home run in more 
ways than one, a wonderful leading lady role in the part of Mary ; a 
hypochondriac, who finds his medicine most pleasant to the taste; 
an old maid who mourns the loss of her parrot, and a Sis Hopkins 
type of girl with the exuberance of spirit that keeps the audience on 
its mettle. The Major is a character of great possibilities and in 
the hands of a capable actor much can be made of it. Sunshine is 
the sort of play that will live for years, as its very atmosphere is 
permeated with good will toward the world at large. We cannot 
too highly recommend this play, written by an author with scores 
of successes behind him and not a single failure. Royalty $10.00 for 
the first performance and $5.00 for each subsequent performance 
given by the same cast. 

Price, 50 cents. 



CHARACTERS 

Maudeua McCann, aged ten. 

Mrs. Bunch McCann, of Detroit, the mother. 

Mrs. Soe Whipple, of Whipple's Corners, Conn., the 

country lady. 
Miss Tessie Miteord, the mental case. 
Mr. Juba K. Butternip, of Peoria, III, the old man. 
Miss Gregory, the nurse. 
Buddy Brady, of New York, the ball player. 
Major Keeeicott, the speculator. 
Jim Anthony, he's engaged. 
Syevia Deane, she's engaged. 
Mary, " Sunshine." 
Boys and Gires. 

Scene: The lawn at Sunshine Sanitarium, near New York City. 
Act I. — Morning. 
ACT II. — Afternoon. 
Act III.— Night. 

Time of playing: Two hours. 



STEP OUT—JACK! 

An Optimistic Comedy in Three Acts. By Harry Osborne 

A successful vehicle for talented amateurs. Twelve males (can 
be played with less), five females. Costumes modern. Scenery, 
three simple interiors. Jack Rysdale is " down and out." All he 
has in the world are the clothes on his back and the love in his heart 
for the wealthy and beautiful Zoe Galloway. He dare not ask her 
to marry him until he has made his way in the world. Zoe loves 
him, and while the girls in New York do nearly everything else, they 
do not propose — yet. Jack's fighting spirit is about gone when he 
meets a man named Wilder, who is a natural fighter and knows how 
to bring out the fighting qualities in others. From him Jack learns 
that he has a dangerous rival in Percy Lyons. He learns that if he 
is going to get anywhere in this world, he can't stand in line and 
await his turn but must step out and " go get it." He learns more 
from Wilder in ten minutes than he absorbed in a whole year in 
college. So, figuratively speaking, he steps out, takes the middle of 
the road and "gives 'er gas." Once started, nothing can stop him 
until he has attained his object. Every girl will fall in love with 
Jack and every man and boy will admire his pluck and courage. 
Zoe is a matrimonial prize on fourteen different counts, and her 
chum, Cynthia, a close second. Wilder is a regular man's man who 
can convince any one who doesn't wear ear muffs that black is 
white and vice-versa. Then there is Percy Lyons, who never stayed 
out very late, Clarence Galloway, a rich man's son looking for a 
job, Buddie the office boy, who is broken-hearted if he misses a 
ball game, and Bernice Williams, who thinks she is a regular little 
Home Wrecker but isn't. An artistic and box office success for 
clever amateurs. 

Act I.— Private Office of R. W. Wilder. 
Act II. — Library — John Galloway's Home. 
Act III.— Rysdale's office. 

Time: The present. 
Peace: New York City. 
Time of playing: Approximately two hours. 
Price, 50 cents Royalty, $10.00 

THE SHOW ACTRESS 

A Comedy in One Act. By J. C. McMullen 

Two males, four females. Costumes, country of the present day. 
Playing time about forty minutes. Scene, dining-room of the Martin 
Homestead, Hillville, Vt. A burlesque troupe is stranded in the 
little village of Hillville. Goldie, the star, is taken in by the Martins. 
Her adventures with the cow at milking time, and with the domestic 
cook-stove are a scream. She eventually restores the Mar- 
tins' lost daughter, captures the thief robbing the village bank and 
marries Zek'l, the bashful village constable. Full of action. All 
parts good, Goldie the lead, and Zek'l, the bashful lover, being 
particularly effective. 

Price, 25 cents. 



JUST PLAIN MARY 

A Comedy in Two Acts 
By Gladys Ruth Bridgham 

Seven males, thirteen females. Scenes, an easy exterior and an interior. 
Plays two hours. What seems to be for two thrilling acts a dark plot 
against Judkins turns out to mean big money for him and big luck for 
" Just Plain Mary." Rustic eccentric character in great abundance. 
Price, 3 'J cents 

CHARACTERS 

Daniel Judkins, aged yo. 

Ezekiel Judkins, aged 19 \ , . 

Hezekiah Judkins, aged 8 j nts 5ms * 

Rev. John Andrews, aged jo. 

Austin George, aged jo. 

Hiram Paisley, aged 45. 

Joel Sanborn, aged 13. 

Francine DuMont, aged 18. 

Naomi Judkins, aged 21 ) r> • r 

Martha Judkins, aged 15 \ J f am ^ is 

Ruth Judkins, aged 10 J ***£**«** 

Miranda Hawkins, aged 4.0. 

Lavinia Hersey, aged 20. 

Electa Tarbox, aged 33. 

Violet Webster, aged ig. 

Leila Hastings, aged 20. 

Ethel Wyman, aged 20. 

Evelyn, aged 15. 

Alice, aged 15. 

Irene, aged 15. 

SYNOPSIS 

Act I. — Garden of Daniel Judkins' home — a New England vil- 
lage. An afternoon in September. 

Act II.— Living-room in the Judkins' home. Ten days later ; 
evening. 



CIN'M'BUNS 

A Sketch in One Act 

By Frances Homer Schreiner 

Two males, two females. Scene, an interior. Plays twenty minutes. 
Prue meets her " ideal " by accident, takes him for the new organist 
and feeds him with buns, but her romance survives this mischance. All 
straight characters. 

frice, a$ cents 




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AMATEURS' SUPPLIES 
PREPARED BURNT CORK— Will not dry out. Always m 
condition for immediate use. Easily removed. Enough 

for four people. Per box (about 2 oz.) $ .30 

One-half lb., $1.00; per lb 1JJ5 

SPIRIT GUM— For sticking on whiskers, etc. Easily 

removed with Cocoa Butter or Cold Cream. Per bottle. .35 
COLD CREAM — For removing grease paints, spirit gum, 

etc. In tubes 30 

COCOA BUTTER— For same purpose as Cold Cream .30 

CLOWN WHITE— For Pantomimes, Clowns, Statuary, etc. 

Per box .30 

CARMINE LINER— Per stick [30 

BLUE— For the eyes. Per stick 30 

EYE BROW PENCILS— Black, Brown. In nickel-plated 

metal tubes. Each .25 

GRENADINE OR LIP ROUGE 35 

THEATRICAL BLENDING POWDER— Thoroughly hides 
oily appearance of grease paints. Not to be confused 
with street powder. No. 1, White ; No. 2, Flesh ; No. 3, 
Brunette; No. 4, Rose Tint for juvenile heroes; No. 7, 
Healthy Sunburn; No. 10, Sallow for both young and 
old age; No. n, all ruddy exposed characters; No. 17, 

American Indian, East Indian, Othello 4c 

ROUGE DE THEATRE— No. 18, Medium shade for juve- 
nile and fair complexion; No. 36, Brunette for decided 
brunette types; No. 24, Deep Rose for darker hues. 

Per box .3$ 

HAIR POWDER— White only. To gray or whiten the 

hair or beard .35 

POWDER PUFFS— For applying blending powder .30 

HARE'S FEET— For blending make-up .30 

STOMPS — Leather, for lining face for wrinkles, etc .30 

NOSE PUTTY— For building up nose or chin .35 

EMAIL NOIR OR BLACK WAX— Black, for stopping out 

teeth -35 

WATER COSMETIQUE or MASCARO— White, Black, 
Dark Brown, Light Brown, Blonde, Red, for coloring 
the beard, eyebrows or hair at temples to match wig. 

Removed with soap and water. Each .35 

MAKE-UP PENCILS— Light Flesh, Dark Flesh, Brown, 
Black, White, Gray, Carmine, Pink and Crimson. Set 

in a box 1.35 

UNING PENCILS— Black, Brown, Crimson, Gray and 

White. Each •*> 

LADIES' BEAUTY BOX— For stage or toilet use. Con- 
tains Flesh Color Face Powder, Theatrical Cold Cream, 
Theatre Rouge, Eyebrow Pencil, Powder Puff, Hare's 
Foot, Flesh Color Exora Cream and Lip Rouge 1.35 

Always send your orders to 
WALTER PL BAKER GO, Boston, Mass. 



1 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



AMATEURS' St 



m 



016 103 394 7 



MAKErUP BOX— For either Gentle 
japanned tin case, with lock an 
following articles: A set of Grease Faints (nine colors), 
Blending Powder (two colors), Rouge de Theatre, Eyebrow 
Pencil, Grenadine or Lip Rouge, Blue for the Eyes, Nose 
Putty, Email Noir or Black Wax, Mascaro or Water Cos- 
metique and Brush, Spirit Gum and Brush, Powder Puff, 
Cocoa Butter, Burnt Cork, Two Artist's Stomps, Hare's 
Foot, Mirror, Scissors and Five Colors of Crepe Hair. All 
these articles are of the best quality. The actual listed value 
of the articles enumerated, all of which are included with 
our complete Make-Up Box, would be over $7.00; so that 
the handsome carrying case is included at no additional cost 
when you buy this outfit. By express, shipping charges not 
paid $7.00 



QREASE PAINTS 



No. 
1. 

2. 

a 

4. 
& 

6L 

7. 

& 

9. 
10. 
11. 



No. 
12. 
18. 



Very Pale Flesh Color. 
Light Flesh, Deeper Tint. 
Natural Flesh Color for Juvenile Heroes. 14. 
Rose Tint Color for Jurenile Heroes. 15. 
Deeper Shade Color for Juvenile Heroes.16. 
Healthy Sunburnt for Juvenile Heroes. 17. 
Healthy Sunburnt, Deeper Shade. 18. 

Sallow, for Young Men. 19. 

Healthy Color, for Middle Age. 20. 

Sallow, for Old Age. 21. 

Ruddy, for Old Age 



Olive, Healthy. 

Olive, Lighter Shade. 

Gypsy Flesh Color. 

Othello. 

Chinese. 

Indian. 

East Indian. 

Japanese. 

Light Negro. 

Black. 

White. 



(Done up in sticks of 4 inches in length at 30c each.) 



MISCELLANEOUS SUPPLIES 

FOR YOUR MINSTREL SHOW 

Minstrel Chorus Wigs (special price by the dozen), each $i-B5 

End Men's Fancy Wig 2.25 

Fright Wig (Mechanical) 3.00 

44 Uncle Tom " Wig. 2.25 

" Topsy" Wig 2.25 

Sonnetts or Clappers (per pair) .25 

Paper Collars (end men) 15 

Dress Shirt Fronts -35 

L Stage Jewelry: Shirt Stud 50 
Large Diamond Ring 75 
Stage Money : 20 sheets 10 
. " " 



Always send your orders to 
WALTER EL BAKER CO., Boston, Mass. 



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